


Feel My Finger on Your Trigger

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Category: Batman (Comics), Captain America (Comics), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Bar Room Brawl, Blow Jobs, Crossover, Grief/Mourning, M/M, formerly dead sidekicks ftw!, robot arm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-30
Updated: 2011-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-25 02:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jason and Bucky grieve for their respective mentors via the time-honored method of bar brawls and blowjobs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel My Finger on Your Trigger

Jason liked New York, even if the last time he'd visited, he'd ended up getting turned into a tentacle monster. He didn't blame the city. It couldn't help what it was. He liked it because it was close enough to Gotham to feel like home, but the crazy was a little less toxic (tentacle monsters notwithstanding). Also, New York had its own hero community (Dick had fit in perfectly with their awful costuming choices), and they pretty much left him alone; nobody wanted to tangle with Batman, and even though his own family would have hauled him downtown in cuffs, nobody else would touch him.

Of course, the New York bunch were having their own problems these days. Jason sat at the bar and tried to drown out the endless looping coverage of Captain America's assassination playing on the flatscreen TV over the bar. He hadn't known the man, though Dick was a fan, and he and Bruce had apparently been on speaking terms, which wasn't always the case with Bruce and the rest of the cape and cowl crew. But Bruce was gone, too, and nobody was allowed to mourn him. They all had to pretend that the Batman patrolling Gotham now was the same as he'd ever been, despite the fact that Dick was clearly too short and too nice to be the genuine article. He was good at it, Jason could admit, grudgingly, and only within the confines of his own head, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

He was just working his way into a nice sulk when a fight broke out. Jason grabbed his glass and assessed the situation carefully. Normally, he'd be on a bar brawl like white on rice, riding the adrenaline rush of skinned knuckles and busted heads, but the dark-haired guy who'd started it seemed to have the whole thing well in hand, and didn't look like he wanted to share his fun.

He was good, Jason thought, not a typical barroom brawler, but clearly a trained fighter. The mouth-breathing neckbeard who'd defended the SHRA and spat upon the good name of Captain America never stood a chance. Neither did his drunk-ass friends.

Jason watched the guy beat them down with a growing sense of familiarity. He'd seen this guy fight before. It took him a minute or two to place him, though. And then he remembered.

When he'd first started training with Talia, she'd sent him to Bruges to study a Russian assassin who wasn't part of the league--a man they'd called the Winter Soldier. Jason had watched and learned from him then, though he'd been too young and stupid then to recognize him, but everyone in the community knew the story now. Jason liked to think he'd had some instinctive affinity for a fellow dead sidekick who'd been turned into a killer, but now he figured that maybe he'd just thought the guy was hot. He was definitely thinking it now.

The fight came his way, so he tucked his glass against his chest with one hand and decked the asshole coming towards him with the other, laying him out with one punch. His knuckles stung, but it was worth it to see the look in Bucky's eyes change from disdainful to considering.

Jason tossed back the last of his bourbon and said, "We could fight, which might be fun, or we could fuck, which would definitely be fun."

Bucky lowered his fists and raised an eyebrow. "You're one of Bruce's boys, right?"

Jason took a swing at him then, using the hand that held the glass. Bucky caught it and squeezed until Jason dropped the glass, which landed with a dull thunk but didn't break.

"Ah, shit," Jason said, not bothering to fight to get free. "Robot arm, right?"

Bucky let him go. "Sorry." He didn't look sorry, though.

"S'okay," Jason said, making a point of rubbing his wrist. He'd have bruises later. "You can make it up to me by letting me suck your dick."

Bucky laughed and almost sounded like he meant it. "I like you. Jason, right?"

"You get that from your government friends?"

Bucky's smile disappeared. "Something like that." He paused, then, "Sorry about Bruce."

"Yeah, me, too." Jason slid off the barstool. "Cops are probably on their way."

Bucky nodded, and followed Jason out the back door into the alley. It was damp and smelled of garbage. Just like home.

Jason shoved Bucky against the brick wall, and Bucky retaliated by hauling him in for a rough kiss that was more teeth than tongue. He dropped to his knees before either of them ended up with a bloody lip, and unzipped Bucky's jeans and slipped him out of his boxers. His cock was warm and heavy in Jason's hand. Jason leaned close and just breathed in for a few seconds, inhaling the heady, musky scent of sweat and sex. And then he breathed out, a hot puff of air right over the head. Bucky shivered and slid his fingers into Jason's hair, pulling tight.

"You gonna stare at it or you gonna suck it?"

"Little bit of both. That a problem for you?" He sucked a kiss on the jut of Bucky's hip bone and grinned at the soft noise Bucky made. "I didn't think so."

Bucky just grunted and yanked on his hair. Jason didn't mind the sting. He looked up but Bucky had his eyes closed and his head tipped back. He decided not to care that Bucky was probably wishing he was someone else (decided not to think about all the times he'd done the same), and leaned in and licked, slowly at first, over the head, which was already getting slick with precome, and then down the shaft, flattening his tongue against the vein on the underside.

Bucky made a low, guttural noise that made Jason's dick twitch, so he did it again, licking up this time, and then sucking the head into his mouth. Bucky let out another one of those noises, and Jason sucked harder, sliding his lips down as far as he could.

"Fuck."

Jason hummed in response, enjoying the jerky little thrusts Bucky made into his mouth, trying to hold back and not quite able to. Jason slid a hand around one of his hips and palmed Bucky's ass, then pulled off long enough to slick his fingers with saliva and precome. He kept up a steady rhythm sliding his lips up and down Bucky's cock, and used his other hand to circle Bucky's hole with slick fingers. Bucky thrust forward in surprise and then spread his legs a little wider, bent his knees a little more. Jason eased a finger in past the tight ring of muscle and enjoyed the harsh, choked off noises Bucky was making. His own dick was hard and aching, but he could take care of that after. Right now, he wanted to make Bucky lose it, wanted to swallow it down and know he was the reason for it.

Jason added a second finger, then found the spot he was looking for and rubbed.

Bucky shouted, "Jesus." His hips jerked against the rhythm Jason had set up, fucking forward into Jason's mouth and then back onto his fingers.

Jason could feel the tension in his thighs, the telltale tremble that warned him that Bucky was close. He relaxed his throat and let Bucky shove in as far as he could, swallowing down the thick spurts of come.

When Bucky was done, Jason let his dick slip out of his mouth with a wet noise and licked his lips. Bucky thumbed the corner of Jason's mouth where he was sticky, and then licked his own fingers. Jason surged to his feet and shoved his tongue into Bucky's mouth. Bucky growled low in his throat and sucked on Jason's tongue the way Jason had sucked on his cock.

Their hands fumbled together at Jason's belt and fly, and then Bucky was jerking him off, hard and fast, his grip a little tighter than he'd have done it himself, but so good that Jason didn't bother to complain.

"Use the metal hand," he demanded.

Bucky hesitated, and then shrugged, switching hands. The metal was cooler than his real hand had been, and his grip slightly looser, but he didn't slow down. He bit at Jason's lips and moaned into his mouth as he came, pleasure burning like lightning down his spine. When he was done, he licked the metal clean, the salt-bitter taste of himself familiar and the now-warm metal of Bucky's hand new and different, the surface smooth and foreign.

Bucky made a choking sound but didn't stop him, just stared at him intently, like he was memorizing everything about him. Jason couldn't blame him. He was doing the same thing.

The cops finally arrived in a blare of sirens and flashing lights.

"Well, it's been fun," Jason said, putting himself away and zipping up, "but I'm kind of wanted for murder, so I'm gonna scoot. We should do this again sometime."

"Yeah," Bucky said, looking bemused. Jason didn't mind. It seemed to be the general response people had to him when they weren't trying to shoot him or beat him up.

A couple weeks later, he saw the news that a new Captain America had appeared. He emailed a link about it to Dick with the message, Oh yeah, I totally tapped that.

Dick didn't believe him, but for once, Jason didn't care.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Beatles. Written for lj user=moetushie for [**Nostalgia Fest 2011**](http://hazyflights.livejournal.com/241856.html?thread=7501248#t7501248), though it doesn't really match the prompt, which was was Bucky/Jason,  the good soldier. Thanks to innie_darling for bringing it to my attention.


End file.
